


Synchronicity

by superagentwolf



Series: With Religious Fervor [10]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone is a Cinnamon Roll, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Smut, Graves is a Hopeless Softie, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9178489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/superagentwolf
Summary: Sometimes, things happen which are seemingly unconnected and unexplained. In these mysteriously meaningful moments, it is easy to imagine that there is such a thing as fate or design.The team is back together- and new. Both Credence and Graves find their way in a new world, with new faces, and new dynamics.





	1. Separate

Credence hears the door open and he turns, smile flickering on his face. It fades when he sees Graves’ expression.

“She’s sending you away.”

It isn’t a question. He _knows_.

“We knew this would happen,” Graves submits softly, fingers hovering over his coat.

Credence feels a small pit of darkness in his chest, sore and aching, and he wishes it didn’t have to be this way. He rises, quiet, and makes his way across the room. The only thing he can think is _I need to feel him,_ so he pulls Graves into a kiss, relishing it, waiting until they are both out of breath, letting it linger until his lungs are burning.

“You’ll come back,” he says, firm, because he cannot believe anything else.

“I will,” Graves promises, resting their foreheads together, and Credence exhales slowly.

He holds Graves’ wrists, running fingers along the small bumps the bones make. _We haven’t been apart in so long,_ he thinks, and it make his throat constrict. He knows they are not needy- they do not rely on one another. But there is dependence and trust and comfort built up between them. Things he will miss.

“I know you’re scared,” Graves starts, pausing as if he’s unsure of how to finish. “and I am. But if you can’t trust yourself- if you can’t stay grounded- you’ll leave. I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I would never leave you,” Credence insists, feeling his heart crack a little.

_What does he mean? Leave him? I would never leave him. Never._

“I know,” Graves murmurs, pulling him closer, “I know. But your magic- your strength- if something happens, and I’m not here…you could leave.”

_What?_

“…what do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Credence, I don’t know- I don’t know how you came back. I don’t know how you can be _here_ , and I can _hold_ you,” Graves tries, and Credence can hear the edge of desperation in his voice.

It’s painful.

He wants to hold Graves closer still, console him, but he knows the man is right. They know nothing of Credence’s magic, of the Obscurial.

“I’m not going to disappear,” Credence promises, and he moves away just enough to see Graves’ eyes. “I’ll be here. Waiting.”

* * *

Tina opens the door, pausing, and Graves can see understanding and sorrow flood her features. Behind her, Queenie pauses, teakettle shaking just a fraction as she watches them.

“I have a favor to ask,” Graves starts, and the words are stones in his throat.

He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to give this up. _Credence_.

“Yes,” Tina says, sure, and there are faint tears in the corners of her eyes.

“…thank you,” he manages, trying to think of something else to say, but he can already feel his resolve crumbling.

Credence squeezes his hand tighter.

“Thank you,” Credence says, attempting a smile, and Tina almost cries when she sees his face.

Graves knows the feeling.

She waits, leaving the door open a fraction, and moves enough to give them a moment’s privacy.

“It’s only a month,” Graves tries, but he is only halfway paying attention, trying to dedicate every inch of Credence to his memory.

His strength. His peculiar beauty, deceptively delicate as marble, but just as solid. Bangs, freshly cut- _it’s been too long, my boy, and you might not have time when I…_

Credence reaches, careful, and when mouth parts Graves can taste tears on his lips already. They are sugar and salt and Graves wants to remember the taste, commit it memory, so that when he is away he can remember this moment. Remember it just as he remembers everything else.

_Nothing is complete without its opposite half_ , Graves thinks. He wouldn’t be doing either of them justice to only remember the bathtub or the office. He has to remember the other moments, too- the first invasion at MACUSA, the way Credence had torn open streets what seems like ages ago.

“One month from now,” Credence says quietly as he moves away, “you’ll set foot in this city and I will be the first thing you see.”

“Is that a promise?” Graves asks, smiling because he wants to leave Credence with something good.

“It’s a promise,” Credence laughs, eyes bright behind the tears.

_Promise._

* * *

“Cocoa,” Queenie says from the doorway, head barely tilted, and Credence recognizes the act.

She’s trying not to listen, he thinks, but it’s hard. _When people are hurting,_ she’d said once, _they’re easier to read._

He thinks he must be very loud.

“Thank you,” Credence says, rising from the small bed, and he pulls the blanket closer around his shoulders.

It is deep blue and it smells of pine.

“He’ll be back,” Queenie ventures, smile sweet as always.

But she seems like she understands. Credence remembers Graves saying something about a no-maj, a man Tina and Newt had befriended. Who Queenie had loved.

_Loves,_ he thinks.

“I know,” Credence says, because he does, and he knows the pain will go away. It will, but for now…

“Hurts like hell,” she laughs, but it’s more sad than happy and Credence wants very much to hug her.

He sets the mug down and moves closer and Queenie holds him close. She seems relieved, he thinks, relaxing into the embrace. He feels a little brokenhearted for her.

“That’s how you know it’s real,” Credence says quietly, closing his eyes, trying to imagine Graves on a ship at sea.

_That’s how you know it’s real. Because it’s sad and happy and scary and comforting, all at the same time. Because it’s everything._

Queenie laughs a little, arms tighter, and he can hear the tears in her voice.

“Yeah,” she sniffs.

* * *

Bertrand is waiting for Credence when he leaves Graves’ empty office.

_Our office now,_ Graves says in his memory, smiling as he clicks a tiny Newton’s Cradle. _Picquery agreed, with some convincing. I told her I could keep an eye on you better that way._

“Robert went,” the man says, almost as if it is a passing comment.

_Oh,_ Credence thinks, and the thought makes him quietly pleased. _Robert._

“Then they’re safe,” Credence says, and his smile comes a little easier.

Bertrand nods, raven hair shining in the light. His blue eyes are careful.

“Robert told me, before he left, ‘Look after each other. You’re hopeless on your own and Credence could use a friend’.”

It’s unexpected but entirely Robert and Credence laughs, for the first time since Graves left. It is bone-deep and the tears in his eyes are mingled, joy with a little sadness. Bertrand laughs with him.

“That sounds like Robert.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

* * *

Credence isn’t sure what to think of Bertrand at first.

The man is quiet. He has dark hair and dark blue eyes and more often than not Credence catches glimpses of him stowing a pair of glasses in his suit pocket. Bertrand seems a lot like Newt, he thinks- there is something awkward about him when he’s around others.

“I think you should know something about me,” the man says two days after their initial meeting, as Credence leaves Graves’ office.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Credence supplies.

He knows better than most the ways emotional manipulation can work from within and without.

“I know,” Bertrand says, and he looks both amused and pleased. “but it seems Robert has already let his ability slip. It makes sense for you to know something about me, since we’ll be on the same team.”

“True,” Credence smiles, slipping past a gaggle of new recruits.

“I’m an animagus.”

_A what?_

“I understand there are things you don’t know,” Bertrand continues, pausing to give Credence room to interrupt.

“Yes. This is one of those things,” Credence smirks.

Bertrand’s mouth twitches into a lopsided grin.

“An animagus is an individual capable of transforming themselves into an animal at will.”

“A-an animal,” Credence repeats, stumbling a little.

_How-? Animal? How on earth…_

“It’s a complicated process,” Bertrand smiles, gently pressing Credence’s elbow. Guiding.

_Where are we going?_

“So what is it you turn into, then?”

“A raven,” Bertrand says.

Credence can’t help the short laugh that bursts from his mouth.

“I- I’m sorry,” he starts, trying to hold back, but he can’t help it.

He can see Bertrand, blue-black, flying around Robert’s head in a cartoonish scene as the other man waves his hands. _Bert, please, I’m trying to work here-_

“Oh, I’m used to it. It took Robert a full twenty minutes to compose himself the first time I transformed. We were young. I sulked for a week. He had to come find me in the Astronomy Tower at school. Almost fell, climbing the roof.”

Credence laughs even harder, vision blurring, and he can hear Bertrand chuckling.

_Oh,_ he thinks, realizing where they are. It’s the bookstore.

“Oh- Bertrand, I think Graves has enough books,” Credence smiles, but he follows the man inside anyways.

“At least he has bookshelves,” Bertrand grumbles good-naturedly. “Robert puts his everywhere. They’re _under_ his dresser. Stacked next to doorways and piled into laundry baskets. I honestly think Robert’s forgotten that the only thing meant to hold books is a _book_ case.”

Credence laughs, opening the door, and he can almost see Graves in the stacks, relaxed and glowing.

_Look- it’s a first edition, I wonder what it’s doing hidden here-,_

“Maybe you should buy him a bookcase, then. Instead of books.”

“Oh, he has one. He uses it for shoes.”

“Of course,” Credence agrees, giggling, and Bertrand smiles.

It’s the first full smile Credence has seen from the man. He thinks, pleased, that it’s nice to see. And then he realizes that this outing- and Bertrand’s friendship- is not just because they are teammates. It’s different.

Like Tina, Queenie, Newt, Robert- all of them. His friends. They are, he thinks, codependent. Supporting each other, even when they are not there in person.

_I couldn’t really ask for better friends,_ he thinks.


	2. Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking fireplaces and animagi are not things Credence is used to.

It’s a strange thing when a fireplace starts talking to you.

“ _Credence_.”

“…who’s there?”

He slips his feet from the bed, floor cold against his skin. He can hear the voice issuing from the living room- his door is barely open, air still around it.

“ _Credence._ ”

He wonders whether he should wake one of the sisters (it’s their apartment, after all) but he decides not to just yet. Tina has work in the morning, he thinks, and she’s been tired lately.

“Who is it?”

He can see the soft glow of the fireplace. _Why is it still…?_

The embers flare a little, shifting, and suddenly he falls to his knees with a gasp. It’s Graves.

“ _Credence. There you are._ ”

“Graves,” he breathes, hands fluttering because he wants to reach out but knows he can’t.

“ _Hello,_ ” the man smiles, and Credence thinks that the fire cannot do the man justice.

“What are you doing?”

“ _I wanted to see you,_ ” Graves smiles. “ _Time is different here, so I haven’t had a chance…_ ”

“Are you okay? How are things?”

“ _Fine. They’re fine._ ”

“Robert’s with you,” Credence says, not really a question.

“ _Yes. He’s with me,_ ” Graves smiles, and Credence can tell even through the fire that he’s holding back a laugh. “ _He wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when he found out I didn’t tell you._ ”

“I’ve been talking to Bertrand,” Credence starts, “he seems to have received a similar lecture.”

“ _Of course he did,_ ” Graves laughs.

Credence smiles and for a moment, it’s almost as if Graves is back. _Home._

“When are you coming back?”

“… _soon,_ ” Graves promises, soft. “ _Soon. I have to go, Credence…but I’ll be home soon_.”

_Home._ The word is sweet.

“I love you,” Credence says, trying to communicate everything he feels, and he imagines Graves.

Imagines the man, in some hidden hotel, scarf wrapped close against bitter winds. His hair always immaculate, defying the elements and even his swift movements in battle.

“ _I love you,_ ” Graves echoes, and then the fire dims, embers shifting to cover the glowing spot where Graves once was.

* * *

It is Saturday, and normally Credence would sleep in an hour or two, but he wakes to a soft tapping on his window.

Soft, but insistent.

_What is that?_

He rises, a bit groggy, and carefully moves the latch. There’s a ruffle of feathers, soft, and a raven enters the room.

“Hello,” Credence says, amused, and he’s about to reach down to touch the creature when there’s another rustle and he feels magic in the air.

“Hello,” Bertrand says, tugging at his collar to straighten it.

Credence blinks. _Oh._

“Ah…,” Credence tries, grasping for something to say.

“I’m sorry. I would have called ahead, but I had to get here as soon as possible,” the man explains, making his way out of the room.

“Oh-,” Tina says, startled, eyes widening. She’s placing bowls on the table. “Ber-,”

“Morning,” Bertrand says, coat swirling on an invisible breeze. “I have news.”

“What is it?”

“A development. Picquery hasn’t let anyone know where Graves and Robert went- security reasons- but she sent others out this morning.”

“After them?” Credence asks, heart thumping. _I just spoke to Graves last night._

“It might be,” Bertrand says. “Perhaps not, but from what I’ve gleaned they seem to be going to the same place.”

“Do you think they’re in trouble?” Tina asks, dishes abandoned.

Queenie is suddenly there, unexpected, and Credence is glad for her support when she places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“No,” Bertrand says. “They’ve sent out Steadwell’s team. Those sort aren’t backup. I think they’re being sent in to investigate, maybe draw attention while Robert and Graves complete their assignment.”

“They wouldn’t send in the new Aurors as backup,” Credence agrees, glancing at Tina. “Maybe they’re just helping move things along. I spoke to Graves last night- he seemed fine.”

“Fireplace,” Queenie says, answering the question Tina hasn’t asked yet.

“I thought you would want to know,” Bertrand explains. “There’s no bad news. Only a development.”

“Thank you,” Tina sighs, and she seems to relax a little.

“Stay for breakfast, honey,” Queenie smiles, patting Bertrand’s shoulders. “You already took the morning to come here. May as well have a good meal.”

* * *

“The magic Robert used…it seems…familiar,” Credence starts, pulling his coat closer in the wind. “Like my own. Before.”

Bertrand glances at him, gaze curious.

“Does it?”

“…is it…?”

“He was never an Obscurial, no,” Bertrand answers, watching his feet as he walks. “The magic he uses…it’s something secret, from what I know. Restricted. I’m still not sure how he learned it, but I do know that it’s why he was recruited by MACUSA directly out of school.”

“And what _is_ it?” Credence asks, remembering the way Robert’s voice had changed.

“I think, maybe, it’s like an Obscurial. Just a little. Instead of magic changing the person, though, it changes his words. They’re magic, in the way a spell is when you use a wand. It takes concentration, I think, and maybe something else. He’s always a little different when he does it.”

_They’re all different,_ Credence thinks. _They all have some little thing that makes them special. Powerful. What can I do?_

“I have a favor to ask.”

* * *

“Val, if you keep romantically staring off into the distance, some woman is going to come up and ask you out for coffee.”

Graves snorts, moving away from the window.

It’s a foreign land, but somehow it’s all so familiar. The pine trees, the snow on the ground, the quiet town. _Like home._

“Credence said he’s been spending time with Bertrand.”

“Of course,” Robert grins, easy smile somehow inviting warmth into the tiny room. “Do you think Bert has flown him any letters yet?”

“Maybe,” Graves laughs, and then something on the street below catches his eye.

“Martel’s back,” Robert says, serious, and he peers down at the cobblestones.

The man has a scar across the right side of his face, thin and white, with branches creeping across his cheek. A curse-mark.

Ianto has some on his eyes.

“He’s been meeting with the others,” Graves says. _Dark wizards._ “They’re planning an attack on the school.”

The idea of attacking children is beyond disgusting to Graves. It makes him angry, really, and it’s repulsing. _They are our past, present, and future,_ he thinks. _They are our hope._

“We know now who’s involved,” Robert reminds him. “Steadwell’s team should have almost completed their infiltration. It’ll be a messy fight.”

“We need as many as possible,” Graves says, rising to wrap his scarf. “The more we have in custody, the better our chances are at getting the information we need.”

“We’ll do this,” Robert assures him, reaching for his hat. “and then we’ll all go home.”

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

Martel is a dangerous man.

They had known this, and yet it’s still aggravating to find three additional guards in the room.

Thankfully, it’s a wizarding town- there is no need for barriers; civilians have been discreetly notified and are safely out of the way. Graves isn’t as worried about what happens outside of the room; he is more worried about those inside.

The plan was to take Martel and have one of Steadwell’s team impersonate him. It’s a disgusting move, but Graves understands the necessity. What he doesn’t like is that Martel is supposed to be a lower-level messenger.

_Why does he have three other men with him?_

“You thought I didn’t know you were coming?” the man asks, grinning.

Robert glances at Graves.

_He didn’t. Something’s wrong._

“You can play at being a big man,” Graves says coldly, “but we both know you won’t hold up in a fight.”

A flicker of fear and anger crosses the man’s face, but he jerks his head at one of the other guards, fierce.

The man returns with a captive.

_Andromeda?_

He can barely make out her face past the curtain of dark brown hair covering it. He can see blood, and it makes him angry. Beside him, he can hear Robert’s gloves creak as he clenches a fist.

_She was the sweetest of us,_ he thinks, rage boiling.

“We caught this one in the market, didn’t we, boys?” Martel laughs. “Little bird flying around the place. What a nice catch.”

The men laugh and Robert looks at Graves, waiting. For permission. Direction.

“No,” Graves says, answering them both at once. _We’ll save his talents. We’ll need them later._

“No,” Martel repeats, anger bleeding through. “No to what? We’ll curse her pretty guts outside of her, you know-,”

“Let her go, or I will take my time detaining you. You won’t like it,” Graves adds, low and soft.

The anger is still in the man’s face. There is a roar- words- and Andromeda lets out a scream of rage, edged with pain. Defiant.

_The sweetest,_ Graves thinks, _and the strongest._

Once she is down, it is easy enough for Robert and Graves to stop the other men. Graves tries not to take too much pleasure in the way Martel’s head hits a desk on his way down.

“Andie,” Robert is saying quietly, kneeling next to the woman. “Shh. You’ll be home soon.”

“Like _hell_ ,” she spits through grit teeth. “I’m staying. You’ll need me-,”

“Ianto is close enough,” Graves interrupts. “We’ll call him over. His mission can be handed off to his partner; it’s almost done.”

“I want to help,” Andromeda says firmly. “I’ll get patched up and-,”

“No,” Graves says firmly. “I’m sending you home. You know what can happen.”

“I always knew your year as an exchange student made you stubborn,” Robert snorts, helping her to her feet. “ _Gryffindor_. We should be so lucky.”

Later, when she is stepping into the fireplace, Graves hands her coat over. The blood is gone. She smiles a little, grateful, and he can see the magic crackling over her shoulder. The curse had missed. She’d bitten Martel, he’d found out after seeing the blood on the man’s wand hand.

“We’ll miss you,” he says, reassuring. _I know you would have come with us._

She’s always had a habit of feeling responsible for silly things.

“I won’t miss your arguing,” she responds drily, but she’s smiling. “you’re like an old married couple.”

“Go home, Andie,” Robert laughs as she takes a handful of Floo Powder. “and save us a seat at the dinner table!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a friend post a fancast:  
> http://stilinstuck.tumblr.com/post/155356759779/so-im-posting-this-for-my-friend-wolfies-series  
> Andie and Ianto aren't on the list because I haven't thought about them yet...honestly it's hard to cast characters! Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I'm getting closer to teasing a bit more about what Graves and Robert are doing. Be on the lookout for a new series- I'll start one with Graves' old team, probably, just as supplementary ficlets. If you want, let me know if you'd like to see a dump for short scenes between Robert and Bertrand and maybe others!


	3. Explosive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence meets another of Graves' team. Meanwhile, Graves and his other teammates work to stop an attack.

“Come on,” Bertrand says, slipping past a crowd of secretaries. “This way.”

Credence is half-awake, fueled by a cup of coffee- _here, it’ll be a long morning_ \- and his barely restrained worry. Bertrand, tapping at his window, had woken him at five in the morning. The raven had given way to the man, fluttering into Credence’s room. On the way to MACUSA, he’d explained the situation- an old member of the team, injured, was returning.

 _They’ll tell us what we want to know,_ Bertrand had said, smiling grimly. _Picquery won’t have a choice._

Credence believes him. He’s seen the bonds of trust between Graves’ old team. They’re iron. He wonders (but really, he _knows_ ) if they’re all hiding secrets.

The room they slip into is, according to Bertrand, a debriefing room.

“We come here after high-security missions- especially assignments where things go wrong.”

“Where is the person, then?” Credence asks.

The room is empty. There are two comfortable chairs and a small table. It’s a bare space; the walls are light blue, unassuming and reassuring. Meant to put people at ease.

“I don’t know,” Bertrand says, sounding uneasy. “I don’t like this.”

“Where would you go, if not here?”

_There must be somewhere._

“Nowhere,” Bertrand sighs, combing his fingers through messy hair. “There is no other-,”

The man stops, staring at the table, and Credence catches the glow of revelation.

“What?”

“Not unless we were injured,” Bertrand manages, turning quickly on his heel.

Credence feels dread in his chest. _If someone’s injured, Robert and Graves might be in danger. And if it’s their friend that’s injured…_

Bertrand throws a door open and Credence stops, almost running into the man. It’s a small infirmary, beds lined up neatly, windows allowing light that should be nonexistent. At the far end of the room, a woman (a nurse, he thinks) looks up, startled. There’s a woman sitting with her, back to the door.

He almost recognized the long, dark hair.

“Andie,” Bertrand says, the name falling from his lips like a lead weight.

 _He knows her well,_ Credence thinks, and he’s worried by the way the man sounds. He steps closer, trying to be supportive.

The woman turns her head sideways, but her face is still hidden.

“Bert,” she says, quiet and tired but pleased. “I wondered how long it would take you.”

When Bertrand moves closer, the nurse leaves, patting his shoulder. Credence moves quietly, trying to be respectful.

“I’m sorry,” Bertrand starts, but it falls flat, as if he thinks it’s not a good thing to say.

As if he’s guilty.

When he moves around her side, Credence can see the damage.

Her right shoulder has a brilliant white spot on it; there are spidery white marks branching out from the point. The spot- whatever it is- looks raised.

_What is that?_

“Curse mark,” the woman smiles, turning to Credence. “Graves talks about you a lot. It drives Robert a bit crazy sometimes.”

He thinks he should be serious, but he laughs because it’s funny, imagining Robert hitting Graves upside the head with a book.

“That’s sweet,” he manages, unable to help his spreading blush.

Andie smiles wider, tucking hair behind her ear.

“It is.”

“Your arm-,” Bertrand interrupts, looking for all the world as if he doesn’t want to say anything.

“I can still play,” Andie says mildly, flexing her hand. “It wasn’t the left, thank God.”

“Play?” Credence asks.

“Violin,” Andie explains, wiggling her fingers. “Maybe you’ll meet my husband one day. He’s quite handsome.”

“That would be nice,” Credence smiles.

He can imagine her as the buffer for Graves and Robert. She seems sweet. _Like Queenie,_ he thinks. _I wonder if they know each other._

“Andie…what were you doing? Where?” Bertrand ventures, sinking into a chair.

“We were in Europe. It was even more secure than usual- they moved us around a lot, trains and things, keeping us a little lost. Eventually we ended up doing surveillance in a wizarding town outside of a school. We weren’t told which school, but it was freezing. Might have been Beauxbatons or Durmstrang.”

“Why would we be protecting another school?” Bertrand asks. “They have their own governments.”

“Yes. But they don’t have their own Graves or Robert.”

“They don’t,” Credence agrees, grinning, and he feels a fierce pride.

_No one does._

Andie’s eyes twinkle and she bites back a laugh, winking at him.

“We’re cooperating. Ianto was there, on another assignment. He was the one that got us involved. He took my position when I left.”

“How are the others?” Credence asks, because he can’t hold back.

“Well,” Andie reassures. “I don’t think they’ll have much trouble; Steadwell’s group will be running alongside them. They’re going to capture an entire branch of Grindelwald’s old friends. They’re hoping to get more intel once they bring them back.”

“We can’t be receiving all of the prisoners,” Bertrand says, surprised.

“No,” Andie agrees. “Some will go to our foreign friends. We’ll be open with our information, though. It seems that the impending threat has done a lot to bring us together.”

“The spirit of cooperation,” Bertrand exhales, settling back in his chair.

“So they’re safe, and they’ll be coming back soon?” Credence asks.

 _He’s coming home soon,_ he thinks, heart pounding a little faster.

“Yes,” Andie smiles. “They’ll be home soon.”

* * *

“You’re right. He does talk about Credence all the time,” Ianto sighs, pushing white-blonde hair away from his forehead.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Graves growls quietly, leaning back into the room. “Is now really the time?”

“You should ask yourself the same question,” Robert quips cheerfully.

His voice is tense, though. They all are. Which is probably why they’ve decided to tease.

It’s the deep breath before the plunge. The Aurors are in position, and Graves has his own two men- Robert and Ianto- lined up with him. They’re preparing to attack the dark wizards’ hideout.

“I see MacMillan,” Ianto whispers, and then the tension gives way to relaxation. Preparation.

“Good. Prepare to move,” Graves says, stepping into the doorway.

The hallway is long and the ceiling high. They’ve already removed the glass from the skylights. If things get crowded or dangerous, it’ll be easy enough to take the fight to the roof. Away from things that could be used as weapons.

“If one of you gets hurt, I’m not explaining to Credence,” Ianto mutters.

“I wouldn’t want the job either,” Robert says conversationally.

 _No,_ Graves thinks. _But the sex would be fantastic…_

It’s the last clear thought he has before they attack.

* * *

“Something’s wrong,” he hears Picquery say. “They should have checked in by now.”

“They’re fighting,” Bertrand says, cool. “I don’t expect them to be punctual.”

“It should be _over_ by now,” Picquery replies, and Credence can’t stay in the room any longer.

He feels his breath thin in his chest as he leaves, mind whirling. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but his feet take him out of the conference room.

He can’t help thinking of everything.

_Are they hurt? Is someone captured? What’s happening?_

He is so absorbed, feeling everything escalate, that he almost doesn’t notice when someone stops him, hands locked on his arms.

“Credence, honey, I need you to breathe.”

He can feel his body slipping a little. He thinks, dazed, that maybe he’s going to faint (it’s happened once or twice), but it doesn’t feel quite right. In the corners of his eyes he sees a black shift, smoky and glittering, and he starts to think.

In the back of his mind, something says _Obscurial_.

“Credence. Come back. Don’t leave,” the woman says, firm, and he realizes it’s Andie when he sees dark brown eyes swimming before him.

 _Leave,_ he thinks, and he can’t remember where the word is from. Who. _I’m afraid you’ll leave…_

“Credence. Graves is coming back for you,” Tina insists, stronger, and he can hear her voice break a little.

 _Graves? He’s in trouble,_ Credence thinks, and he _wants_ to leave his body, help him, go to him- he looks up, preparing-

_SLAP._

Somehow, through the smoke, a hand cracks against his cheek. He blinks, the world righting itself, and the pain brings him back to himself. He feels a small wave of fear, but it’s followed by anger.

Tina is standing there, looking more than a little shocked and upset, and beside her is Andie.

He’s about to say something but Andie steps closer, holding his gaze.

“You can’t go,” she says quietly. Her right hand, spidery white marks clawing it, presses against his chest. “This heart is where you live. This body is your home, Credence. And it’s Graves’ home, too.”

He blinks, memory flooding back in, and chokes on a sob. _Graves. I promised him-_

“I promised-,” he starts, and suddenly he’s ashamed, because how could he forget?

“I know,” Andie smiles, and she pulls him into a hug. “I know.”

He cries into her shoulder, because her fingers are combing through his hair and she has Modesty’s haunted face- and he still feels guilty, still hurts at the loss, and he knows he shouldn’t compare them but it’s too hard not to.

“They’re coming back,” Tina reassures him, and when he moves away from Andie he sees her smile.

Tired, but there. _She never loses it,_ he thinks. _That little bit of something she has. Love? Hope?_

“They’ll come back,” he repeats, firm, because he believes it.

_They’re too strong not to._

* * *

_We’ve missed the deadline,_ Graves thinks to himself, teeth grit. Somewhere to his left, Ianto roars. Graves has thought before that joining the team had been good for Ianto. He’d been wasted as a politician- he has enough pent-up rage to last three world wars, at least.

“Robert!” Graves yells, ducking behind a pillar as a spell takes the edge off the stones.

“Yes, dear!” the man yells back, dropping down from the ceiling.

His feet are charmed to the ceiling. Reverse-gravity. Graves has always been amused by it.

“Mother will be angry we haven’t called her yet!”

Robert laughs, but he nods.

“We’re almost done cleaning the house. I’ll cover you! Ianto!”

They work like a well-oiled machine, a strange contraption that synchronizes effortlessly. He doesn’t even look behind him as he runs into the open, trusting Ianto and Robert to watch his back. He shoots the Patronus off quickly, watching it disappear as a flash of blue-white.

 _I hope the message is quick enough,_ he thinks. The last thing he wants is unnecessary backup.

He’s about to turn away when he hears yelling at the tree line. A group of men trying to escape.

“Runners!” He yells, even though he’s sure Robert and Ianto have seen them.

They disapparate quickly and Graves re-forms in front of the men, wand ready. Their spells aren’t as noisy as the others- _stronger wizards_ \- and they come faster.

And they have a captive.

A young man, he can tell, half-conscious and weak. It makes him angry when he realizes it’s probably a student. Their way into the school. He wants to do something, and he notices the way Ianto and Robert glance at him, understanding.

It should be easy.

It would have been easy, but one of the men is holding something, and Graves doesn’t like the look of it.

_Detonator? Creature?_

He isn’t sure what to think, but he’s sure it’s probably explosive. He doesn’t want to let the men go or hurt the student, so he tries to think of something. Anything.

He doesn’t get the chance.

Whatever it is, it flies through the air, small and ticking ominously.

“The student!” He roars, but he can see one of the wizards holding his wand to the boy’s neck.

 _We’re going to lose them,_ he thinks, despair reaching out to him, and then Robert turns on his heel and motions to Ianto.

The beginning of the explosion is silent- something sucks everything from the air, and Graves prepares himself, calculating in his mind how far he might go and how dense the snow is. If it will cushion his fall.

“ ** _STOP_** _,_ ” Robert roars, and Graves feels his ears pop.

_No._

He can see his friend’s eyes fixed on the tiny object. He is focused, face red, and Graves moves swiftly.

There’s a crack as Ianto disarms the last man. Graves catches the boy, disapparating back a few feet, and he watches Ianto join him a moment later.

“ _Robert!_ ” he yells, waiting. Desperate.

 _Come on,_ he thinks. _Get out of there._

“If he moves too far it’ll kill him,” Ianto growls, pulling Graves further. “We have to move. _Come on_.”

Graves sees Robert look over his shoulder, blinking, a trail of dark blood pouring from his nose, and he feels sick. There’s a sheen of black smoke over his friend’s eyes, but he’s smiling.

He sees Robert move and then the explosion shakes in the air, resuming like a stuttering record, and he screams into the blast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger. Whoops! I hope you all enjoy. I know it's been a blast (don't kill me) writing this series. All the feedback and comments I've received have made me so incredibly, indescribably happy. As for the action- well, Graves is coming home soon. When he does, we'll get what will probably be the culmination of the entire series...so stay tuned.


	4. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming back is a strange thing. When you're home, though, nothing really changes. Not truly.

Credence waits, breathless, itching to burst from his body. He can feel something (not magic; not quite) humming across his skin, static, sparking. _Go,_ Tina had said, smiling. _He’ll need you._

The people crowd off the ship, no-maj, happy and met by their families and friends. He can hardly see, the crush of bodies threatening to sweep him away. He’s strong, though, a rock in the stream, planted in place as he waits.

He feels Graves, first. Before he sees the man.

It’s a subtle change in the air. A feeling that he’s been holding his breath that dissipates, like smoke, retreating. He can smell the pine and sweat and- _roses?_

Graves turns, suddenly emerging from a crush of bodies, and Credence loses his breath.

The man’s eyes are dark and he pauses, watching.

Not too long ago, Credence stood on a corner, watching Graves watch him. He’d moved closer, drawn in, fighting the rush of something strong and primal. He’d almost smiled.

_Come to me,_ Credence thinks, and Graves does.

Graves is the one to cross, eyes fixed on Credence, and everyone around him seems to instinctively part. He moves closer and Credence _aches_ , wanting, burning to touch, but he waits. He waits because he wants Graves to come to him. He wants to wait. To let it unfold.

Graves exhales and Credence greedily breathes the air in, swallowing as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive. _Maybe he is._

Graves lifts his hands, the low hum of magic encompassing them, and then they rest on Credence’s cheeks.

“My boy,” he breathes, and he looks for all the world as if Credence is the most precious magical creature in existence.

“Welcome home,” Credence says, breathless, and then his mouth is occupied.

Graves kisses him like he’s fighting a war.

Credence can’t hold on, so he tangles his gloved hands in Graves’ coat, wishing there was nothing between them. No layers, nothing separating. His tongue is tangled somewhere in Grave’s mouth and he can’t speak (not that he wants to) because he’s losing the lines of his self, blurring between them. He can’t count where he stops and Graves begins.

He would drown in the man’s mouth, but Graves moves away, biting, and Credence slaps a hand over his mouth to save the cry bursting from it.

“I’m home,” Graves says, and his voice is rough.

* * *

Graves doesn’t let go of Credence’s hand on the way to MACUSA. He clings to it like a life raft, selfish.

He knows that Credence knows. He’s happy the boy hadn’t said anything at first. Glad there were no questions.

The thing about being a war hero is that others don’t question you.

He’d been debriefed after the battle but that had been all. Picquery wouldn’t care, he thinks- especially since it was his old teammates. She had trusted him and left him be. He knows the whole Congress will probably sympathize, will be murmuring, but they won’t doubt him. They won’t even ask questions. They’ll congratulate him and smile at him and move on.

It leaves a hole in his chest.

Andromeda is waiting for them at the front of the building.

“Graves,” she says, smiling softly, sad.

He lets her pull him into a hug because he knows she understands. And more than anything, she has always really been the kindest of them. She empathizes.

“Where is he?” he asks, because he can’t quite say anything else. Credence squeezes his hand.

“The silver room.”

_Not there,_ Graves thinks. _He’d hate it in there._

He walks through the front doors and into the building, ignoring the brief glances from others. They know better than to approach him on his first day back. He suspects he looks rough, too- stubble a little overgrown, clothes dusty and salted from the boat.

The distance seems so long. The elevator and stairs and hallway stretch for miles and he wants to scream. When he gets to the door, he pauses, blinking when Credence tugs at him.

“It’s not your fault,” Credence says softly.

His eyes are sure. _How can he be so sure?_ Graves wonders. _He wasn’t there. How-_

“How do you know?” he asks, almost choking on the words, because there are tears trying to force their way out of his eyes.

“Even wizards can’t see everything,” he says, a little sad when he smiles. “and you would never hurt your friends. You told me that once.”

_Didn’t I?_

Credence opens the door and Graves steels himself, stepping inside. The room is cool- _he’d like that,_ he thinks- and there are daisies in a vase.

Bertrand is standing inside.

Graves pauses. _I can’t do this,_ he thinks, _I can’t stand here and tell him I didn’t do enough, I-_

“You did what you could,” Bertrand says quietly, even as he looks down at Robert’s face.

Peaceful.

“I should have done better.”

“You couldn’t have,” Bertrand says, a puff of air escaping him in a half-laugh. “It’s Robert. He’s dramatic like that.”

“It’s only been five days,” Credence says quietly, looking down at Robert. “he’ll wake up.”

“When he does, I owe him Chinese,” Graves laughs, shaking his head.

“I’d say you also owe him a kick in the ass,” Bertrand says drily, but he’s smiling, lopsided.

They’re quiet for a moment and Graves looks down at the sheets. Bluish. _He would hate it,_ he thinks. _Too pale. Washed out._

“He’ll wake up,” Credence repeats, sure, and Graves wonders when he got so confident. Sure.

_He’s strong,_ he thinks. _He always was._

“When he does he’ll likely yell at me for letting Picquery put him in here,” Graves mutters.

“I was thinking he’d like a change of color,” Credence smiles, mischief flickering across his face. “Purple, then?”

The sheets shimmer a little and Graves feels his smiles widen. _Perfect._

“Come on,” Bertrand says, moving one of Robert’s stray waves aside. “You need food and rest.”

“You both do,” Credence notes drily, and they turn to leave.

Graves has his hand on the doorknob when he hears a soft snort.

“… _I’m_ dramatic,” Robert coughs, and his voice is terrible and cracked but it’s there.

_He’s there._

Credence’s smile is like the sun and Bertrand is frozen in place- Graves can almost see the weight lifting. He can feel it, too.

“You’re the ones…standing over me…talking like I’m dead. Can’t a man get sleep?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I couldn't wait. Also, it's so short and I'm so sorry!!! I wanted it to be longer, but I felt like it was right to kind of wrap this arc up neatly. From here it'll be a little different, but I'm thinking there are maybe 4 or so chapters left in this story. Anyways, I'm sorry it's short, haha. It just felt proper for the chapter's purpose. I hope you enjoyed~


	5. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trouble isn't quite over. Thankfully, everyone is in the same place. When they're together, they can't be stopped.

It’s early morning and Graves is tangled around Credence, inhaling slowly, enjoying the warmth of their bed. _I wish it would always be this way,_ he thinks, fingers nestled in silky black-brown hair.

Something taps at the window.

He doesn’t want to move so he waves his hand, watching the curtain move away. The raven at the window taps and the window dissolves, allowing it through.

“Bert,” Graves acknowledges, still lazy from rest.

In most circumstances, he would have given Credence the opportunity to move away. It’s Bertrand, though, and the man is close enough to the both of them. There are no secrets.

The bird caws softly, hopping closer on the table, and Graves raises an eyebrow at the letter tied to its leg. He tries to suppress a laugh when he unties the deep purple ribbon.

“Thanks. I see Robert’s using you as a delivery boy again.”

Bertrand pecks at his hand- not violent, only warning and annoyed- and Graves chuckles. He watches his friend leave, feathers shining in the sun.

_Hello, friend. Sorry to have woken you. Picquery is testing me today. I think something is wrong, though. She’s in a terrible mood and I can’t find Andie or Ianto. Be safe._

The scrap of paper seems a little more sinister, now that he’s read it. _So that’s why he sent Bert,_ he thinks. _Picquery would have noticed if he’d used his Patronus._

The warming makes him uneasy but he resolves not to think on it too much. There’s no reason, really, not until he knows more.

* * *

Tina catches Bertrand transforming, feathers blending seamlessly into hair and skin and bone.

“Did you tell him?”

“I did,” the man says, glancing down the hallway. There’s no one around.

“I hope it’s nothing,” she says, but in her heart she can tell something is wrong.

She’d hoped Graves and Credence would have some peace. They both deserve it- _they deserve to get away,_ she thinks, _from all this darkness._

“Have they taken him?”

“Yes,” she says quickly, focusing. “Robert said it wouldn’t take long.”

“Assuming nothing happens,” Bertrand says tensely. “…I think it’s an escape.”

_Escape?_ Tina looks down the hall, worried, and even though she asks the dread in her chest tells her what she already suspects.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to warn them. They-,”

“They’re safe,” Bertrand says, “and they know enough. We just have to wait until we’re told what’s happening. I don’t expect Picquery to keep us out of the loop if this goes on long enough.”

* * *

“Should we stay here?”

Credence pauses, towel in hand. His hair is still wet. Graves looks at him and he can see the man’s brain whirring, a thought coming to the forefront. He doesn’t speak right away, though. _So it’s dangerous._

“They don’t know where I am. If I venture into the open…if they’re after me, I can draw them out.”

“And by you, you mean _us_ ,” Credence says firmly, hanging his towel.

He almost can’t keep track of the emotions flickering across Graves’ face. Worry. Pride. Determination. Guilt.

“You’ll be safe here,” Graves starts, and Credence shakes his head.

“I’m safest next to you,” he corrects, smiling, and he sidles closer to the man.

His shirt isn’t buttoned. Credence almost doesn’t want to button it- he wants to pull him back into bed, perhaps relive the night, a little less fervent this time- but he knows better. There are people in danger, people they can help.

“Be careful,” Graves says, and Credence kisses him quickly because he can’t help himself.

“Of course,” he says, “you too.”

* * *

Newt is just leaving the ship when a raven, dark as ink, dives from the sky and onto his shoulder. He instinctively moves away a bit, startled, but the low buzz of magic makes him curious.

“Who are you?” he asks, smiling, a little amused.

The bird tilts his head, dropping a letter from its mouth, and Newt catches it easily. He watches the raven fly away, bemused, and looks at the paper. He recognizes the handwriting- _Tina_ \- and his heart skips a little. He thinks he probably looks a little foolish.

_Newt-_

_Something’s wrong. I think one of our recent captures may have escaped. Picquery hasn’t told me anything yet, but Steadwell’s team is gone. Ianto and Andie are gone, too. Graves and Credence aren’t at work today, so I’ve warned them. Please be careful. Stay safe._

He had planned on stopping at his hotel before going to MACUSA. Now, though, he thinks he’ll go straight to Graves. _They’ll need help,_ he thinks, _and they might go to MACUSA anyways_.

* * *

“You know, Robert was right. That jacket does suit you.”

Credence laughs, but he’s blushing. Graves positively eats the sight up, enjoying it. Credence isn’t quite as bashful as before, but it’s still nice to know Graves can make him blush. As they walk through the park, he thinks it could be any other day. A relaxed weekend.

Except it’s not.

“You can’t flatter our enemy to death,” Credence teases, smirking.

“Oh, not to death. Maybe to sleep.”

Credence laughs. _I missed him,_ Graves thinks. _I’d almost forgotten what his laugh sounded like._

“What happens if we’re attacked?” Credence asks, a little more serious. “We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“No. See those men on the bench by the entrance? They’re from MACUSA,” he explains, watching Credence’s eyes widen. “There are places we have some people stationed. They are there to make a barrier, if it’s needed.”

“Watchers,” Credence remembers, and Graves nods. “We were told about them.”

“They-,” Graves starts, but then there’s a loud bang and he moves, twisting, disapparating to a safe spot behind a large tree.

“They’ve found us,” Credence says lowly, pulling his wand from his coat, and Graves nods sharply.

“The Watchers will do their job. Focus on defending. We need to know who we’re fighting before we try to capture them.”

When they break cover, Graves is almost tempted to run back. He can see three men- three of the men who’d been in the escaping group outside the school. He recognizes them as lackeys- no one of importance- but he’s still wary.

Credence is quick to defend, and Graves slips close enough to him as he helps.

“They’re strong, but there’s nothing special about them,” he says, ducking a curse. “Aim to stun.”

Credence opens his mouth to speak but then someone apparates behind the trio, smoke pouring onto the ground and resolving into a shape.

Andie winks, raising a finger to her mouth, and Graves bites back his smile. When she shoots out a curse, it hits one of the men, and another turns to face her. _We have them,_ Graves thinks, and then one of the trees suddenly comes flying towards him.

It’s so fast he thinks disapparating is dangerous, and he’s about to reach for Credence. When he turns, he sees Credence standing tall, eyes focused on the tree, expression fierce.

“ _Reducto!_ ”

Credence practically _roars_ and Graves loses his breath, watching the impact, a rush of air hitting them as a fine dust flies past.

_Beautiful,_ he thinks, hitting one of the remaining wizards with a spell. There’s only one left, he sees, and Credence quickly dispatches him.

The park is silent.

“Well. I suppose you don’t need my help,” Newt says from the park entrance, eyes merry and a little amused, and Graves laughs breathlessly.

“Good to see you, Scamander.”

* * *

“I can’t believe I missed all of the fun,” Robert gripes, spinning in his chair.

Credence smiles into his tea, glancing around the room. He’s never been in Robert’s office before.

It’s predictably cozy. He also laughs a little at the books piled everywhere- they are stacked almost to the ceiling, magically suspended, and seem to have no apparent organization. The walls are painted a deep bluish purple, small lights blinking like stars from where they dangle along the top of the wall. The floor is covered in a dark rose carpet, soft, and he notices Robert is walking around the office in socks.

_Such a child,_ he thinks fondly.

“You’ve only just recovered,” Graves reminds him, gruff.

“Yeah. Time to take it easy,” Tina smiles, glancing at Newt.

A raven flies into the office, perching on Robert’s shoulder. Credence smiles.

“Is this your friend?” Newt asks, smiling. “He delivered my letter.”

“Yes. He’s useful. I almost wish he would stay this way forever,” Robert sighs playfully, and Credence snorts.

Bertrand nips at Robert’s ear and the man laughs, watching his friend fly off and shift.

“See if I ever deliver your letters again,” Bertrand gripes, but Credence can see the smile in the man’s eyes.

“Animagus,” Newt notes, “my mistake. I thought he might have been some creature-,”

Tina laughs brightly and Newt stops, looking at her like she’s the most magical creature he knows. _That’s probably what he thinks,_ Credence thinks, and from Graves’ expression the man thinks the same thing.

“Everything is a creature to you,” she says fondly, and Newt smiles at the carpet.

“Well, I’m glad things have ended well,” Robert says cheerily, reaching for his hat, and as he steps Credence watches his shoes hurry towards him. “but I’m starving. Lunch?”

As they leave, Credence listens to Tina tell him _you’re not **really** starving, _ and Newt apologize to Bertrand- _really an effortless transformation, it’s very impressive_ \- and he feels his smile widen when Andie and Ianto meet them in the hall, Bellbow following with a booming _hello_.

When they reach the doors, Queenie greets them, effervescent.

“Come on,” she smiles, and Andie takes her arm easily. “Lunch, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I said four chapters, but this was good. I think it wrapped up the story nicely. There will be one more story next, but I may pause (maybe) to write in a series with Graves, Bertrand, and Robert. I'm not sure, though. We'll see! Thank you for your support, as always, and I enjoyed seeing your reactions to Robert not being dead. I honestly couldn't part from my adorable Spanish cupcake!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here comes another work. I probably couldn't stop if I wanted to. Let me know if you'd like a 'fan cast' of my OCs. I can't believe people are actually loving them, since I know it's a slippery slope with Mary Sues. Hopefully I do these characters justice!


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